


If Loving You's a Felony

by Your_Bones



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (in the sense of 'we probably should've worked out who's on top before we started this), Drunk Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg, Other, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 04:11:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19221340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Your_Bones/pseuds/Your_Bones
Summary: Insecurity, vodka and more than a century of unresolved sexual tension are made even more fun by some dubious modifications to Magnus' post-clone-tank body.





	If Loving You's a Felony

The cabin is, when he really looks at it, a piece of shit.

Magnus isn’t saying that to be mean, or because he’s gotten used to fancy stuff or anything. But just as a carpenter, this thing is… painful to look at. Whoever built it just slapped a bunch of logs together-- so far so good, he likes the rustic look-- but they didn’t seal or stain anything, so it’s all rotting away in the elements. There are baby plants growing out of the roof, and the gaps in the walls are so big that they must let a nasty draft in. It’s just _gross_.

But this is the last shelter on the trail for miles, and since Magnus forgot his pocket workshop (it’s in his other pants,) it’s the best they’re gonna get. Taako won’t let anyone borrow the pocket spa anymore since he caught Merle in there, lotioning his Kenny Chesney tattoo.

Lucretia calls this job an ‘expedition’, but compared to what Magnus and his bros have been through, it should be called a cakewalk. He’s never been to one, but he can’t imagine that walking up to a table and grabbing handfuls of cake could be that hard. Hike around the woods, find an old cave, get a dangerous artifact— just like old times! The cabin is the first stop on this ‘adventure’, which in Magnus’ brain, is basically just a vacation.

He kicks down the door and barges in for… he doesn’t know, dramatic effect? It works a little too well, though, since the whole thing just rips off its hinges and flops onto the ground.

“Nice. Real nice,” Taako groans. “Now we’re gonna _freeze to death_ , Mags.”

“Uh… we can make a fire?” Magnus feels like this is obvious. “Don’t you know, like, fifteen fire spells?”

“I’m a wizard, not a machine, bub.” That cheesy, fake-annoyed tone Taako uses doesn’t really fool anyone. “I can’t just make fire on command.”

“Isn’t that how wizards work?” Merle chimes in. “Or is that genies?”

“No, no. You’ve got it all wrong, boys.” Taako takes off his backpack and starts to put it on the worm-eaten table... then decides against that, standing there and cradling it like he’s holding a puppy instead. “Ohhh my god this place sucks.”

“C’moooon, we’ve seen worse.” Merle strolls around the tiny room, gesturing like he’s trying to sell the others on it. “This place is homey! It’s… Cozy. Rustic. Reminds me of my ex-wife’s place.” He sits on one of the moldy beds, and it immediately snaps under his weight.

“It sucks,” Taako concludes. “That’s what I _just_ said. Keep up, fellas.”

“Yeah, I mean…” Magnus hesitates, looking from the bowed-in ceiling, to the remains of the door, and finally to the pile of splinters that Merle’s still sitting on. “It does suck, but it’s authentic, you know? It’s not trying too hard, I like that.”

“See? Magnus gets it.” Merle must’ve changed his mind about the bed, ‘cause now he’s getting up and dusting off his pointless dad fishing vest.

“There’s only one thing that will save us now.” Taako opens his bag dramatically to reveal it’s filled with liquor bottles-- and nothing but bottles. He just plain doesn’t carry survival supplies, Magnus thinks. Good to know that he hasn’t learned a goddamn thing from the Flaming Poisoning Raging Sword of Doom. “Maybe if you guys ask nicely, I’ll share.”

“...Yeah, fuck it, I’m in.” Merle grabs a small, ornate bottle, immediately taking a swig. Taako tries to snatch it back, but even though Merle’s arms are short, he’s strong enough that he can just get a good grip on the booze and hang on until Taako wears himself out.

“Rude! At least beg a little, guys. You can spot me that much.” Taako sulks and glares daggers as Magnus takes a bottle, too. Even though he’s not actually doing anything to stop him.

And he keeps not stopping Magnus. Like, all night.Not after he sits on the table and breaks it, not after Merle gets so hammered he climbs a tree like a squirrel, it just never happens. He loosens up with the booze fast, saying that it’s boring to be the only drunk guy at a party. (And also that he doesn’t trust anyone to not draw dicks on him when he crashes.) By the time Merle’s passed out, Magnus and Taako have gotten into a really half-assed drinking game. The rules are simple! One guy asks a question, and if the other guy can’t answer, he drinks.

Or, wait. Maybe it’s if he can answer. Or if he’s lying. Magnus has no fucking clue, he’s just been drinking every time it’s his turn, and so far Taako hasn’t noticed.

“Okay, big guy. I got a ringer for you.” Taako sniffs loudly, trying to straighten his shirt collar even though he’s wearing a V-neck. “Did you… ever get jiggy with somebody on the Starblaster crew?”

“What? No!” Magnus snorts. “Definitely not.”

“Really?” Taako’s voice breaks in a funny way at the end there, like he really didn’t expect that answer. “I thought it was happening left and right. I mean, we survived the end of the world, hombre. We survived… a whole lotta worlds kicking the bucket.”

“Wait, so did you…?” Magnus bawks. Who would he even… If Taako’s only into guys, and Barry was off the table… man, Magnus is not liking that math.

“Oh, nah. I’ve got excruciatingly high standards. One of my biggest flaws, really,” Taako hums. “I was just under the impression that everybody else did, you know, based on what Lup told me.”

“Like what?” Now, Magnus isn’t usually into gossip; he prefers to do his bullying the honest way, in person, with stuff like wedgies and ‘stop hitting yourself’. Tonight, though, he is just the right kind of drunk to be into it.

“Like Merle’s crazy tree girlfriend, or that time Lup made out with Lucretia on the cave planet.” As soon as he says that, the smug grin on Taako’s face dissolves. It’s… safe to guess that he said a little too much there. He babbles and tries to cover his ass, taking a swig to buy himself some time before sputtering. “I-I mean, it was a long time before the whole Barold thing happened, obviously. And they were both pretty hammered, and, you know, it was near the end of the cycle…” He swallows again, then adds in a tiny, squeaky voice. “Never tell Lup I narked on her. She’ll... Fuck, I don’t know, turn our dicks into dynamite sticks. We both know she can do it!”

“She can.” Magnus nods sagely, patting Taako on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. That… freaky mental image is safe with me. It’s goin’ in the old brain vault.”

“Oh, thank god. Nothing ever comes out of there.” It’s hard to tell if Taako’s being sarcastic or not, but he seems relieved at least. There’s a pause for a minute, Magnus hanging close to the little guy with a hand on his shoulder. It’s not weird, though. Well, it is, but Magnus is so used to this guy that he’s just kind of adjusted to all the weirdness he puts off.

“So…” Drumming his hands on what’s left of the table, Magnus decides to go back to the original topic. “Never, uh… never happened with you, huh?”

“Nope. I mean, I thought about it. Everybody’s thought it.” Taako shrugs, leaning on the wall behind him for a second before stumbling and deciding he’s better off standing. “Enough time in space, enough head trips sprung on you, you start going weird places, you know? Even ol’ Davenport was starting to look good.” Taako coughs, trying to close up that can of worms before those fuckers go all over the place. “You get it. Anyway, I, uh… ‘m glad that shit’s over. We’ve both got options.” Is he sitting really close to Magnus? Nah, he probably just lost a contact and thinks he’s being subtle about not seeing shit.

Magnus starts to say something, but the words stumble out as an incoherent noise that dies off almost immediately. He forgot what he was gonna say-- he forgot what he was thinking. It takes him a second to realize he’s been making eye contact with Taako way too long, and another second after that to notice the little guy’s manicured hand on his knee. That’s… freaky, but maybe it’s just a thing elves do? Magnus blearily copies the gesture— this has gotta be some kind of super dorky secret handshake situation that he doesn’t want to get left out on.

“Oh, Mags.” Taako laughs, this really ugly, squeaky laugh, leaning in and putting his head on Magnus’ shoulder. ...Also freaky, but then again, this is the guy who carries loose pocket yogurt for emergencies. There’s not a lot he can do that would be too weird for Magnus. At least, that’s what Magnus thinks, right up until he does it.

He just kind of… grabs Magnus by the back of the head, pulling him down so he can press his mouth to him and oh. _Oh._ Magnus doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it’s not that. Easily pushing him away, Magnus leans back like he just got bit by a snake and now he’s looking down at it all ‘what the hell, dude? I thought we were cool.’

“Whassiss… what’s is you doing?” Magnus is drunker than he thought, apparently, his words coming together slurred and drowsy. He feels lightheaded, but hey, maybe that’s just the small fucking heart attack he just had.

“Uhh, what’s it look like, hombre?” Snickering again, Taako worms out of Magnus’ grip just to flop forward against his chest. He stinks of booze, he’s so warm that it’s suffocating, and he has the softest, prettiest skin, with this really faint shimmer to it—

Wait, no. No no no. Magnus is not going down that road. He’s not even looking at the street signs. He shudders violently when Taako nuzzles at his shoulder, prying the little guy off of him like a hairless monkey and holding him out at arm’s length.

“What the fuck?” That’s all Magnus can say! That’s all that needs to be said!

“Maggie, buddy, pal. Gimme a shot here, will you?” Taako puts a hand on his thigh and it sends a jolt through him— he feels like throwing up.

“What the _fuck.”_ Magnus swallows, shifting away from Taako’s hand. “What’re you doing? What about Kravitz?”  

“Kravitz?” Taako’s eyes suddenly stop burning a hole through Magnus, darting around the room sheepishly. “It’s not… That’s history, babe.”

“Since when?”

“Two months ago, okay? Look, it’s not— it doesn’t matter. That’s not what we’re here for.” This time, Magnus sees it coming; he stops Taako’s bony mitt _before_ he can cop a feel. “Nothing wrong with a couple of guys helping each other out, huh? Blowing off some steam?”

“Wh— actually, _yeah_ , Taako! There’s a lot wrong!” Since Taako refuses to let go, Magnus does the next best thing, peeling him off and sliding out from underneath him. He stumbles when he gets to his feet, but he’s feeling a hell of a lot more sober now than he did a minute ago. “For starters, I like girls! A-And on top of that, you know I don’t do this stuff—”

“Exactly!” Taako springs up, standing nearly as tall as Magnus with his back arched and his extra-pointy boots on. “You haven’t put yourself out there in years! You’re wasting away, Mags. You think that chick—” Magnus tenses up immediately, and Taako seems to catch on, backing up a bit. “You think that anybody would want you to just… live like a priest or something? For, what, forty years? That _blows_ , man.”

“This is none of your business.” His tone is clearer and stronger; now that Taako decided to make it personal.

“It is! I’m your friend— we’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“And as a friend, as your… your team mate, or whatever, you freak me out.” Resting his forehead in one hand, Taako gestures erratically with the other. “You’re like a masochist, e-except even masochists get to get off on something! I’m not trying to judge, Maggie, I’m just saying, don’t you deserve better than that? Don’t you deserve to— I dunno— _live_ those last forty years you’ve got in you?”

“...I think we should turn in.” That’s all Magnus is willing to say. He steps away with his back to Taako, heading for the corner where he left his sleeping bag.

But the little bastard catches him off guard again. Before he can make it past a couple of steps, these thin, dainty arms wind around his waist, and he cringes at the feeling of Taako’s cheek against his shoulder.

“Just give me a shot?” Taako’s voice is so subdued all of the sudden; it’s almost eerie, coming from a guy like him. He plants a careful kiss on the nape of Magnus’ neck, and it makes him feel like his guts just splashed out onto the floor. “It kinda seems like we both need it.”

“Taako… No, I’m not—”

“You’ve got the perfect excuse, though.” Taako murmurs, and it’s right in Magnus’ ear, and all his hair’s standing on end. “We’re both pret-ty wasted. Anything that happens tonight is a total fuckup, and we can forget about it tomorrow, and it’s all good.” Those dainty hands slide a bit higher, pawing at Magnus’ chest through his shirt, making his stomach twist painfully.

“This is a mistake.” His complaints are getting weaker, less serious. He’s not pulling away from Taako anymore.

“Yeah, it is. But how often do you get to make a mistake like this one?” Taako follows Magnus when he takes a step forward, and when the elf gestures for Magnus to turn around, he doesn’t fight it. He gives him a light push, and that’s all it takes to get Magnus off balance and flat on his butt, sitting on his bedroll and looking up at the other man helplessly. This is bad. Fuck— he knows it’s bad on so many levels, but…

But it’s not stopping him from still kinda wanting it, is the thing.

All it takes is that tiny surrender, that awful thing he’s finally admitted to himself, and Taako is on him. It’s like he senses Magnus caving in, dropping to his knees and kissing him eagerly, pressing his hands to his chest and leaning into him. It’d be uncomfortable if the guy actually weighed anything.

What happens next feels like a hazy blur of kissing and groping and Taako’s weird bony elbows jabbing him every now and then. Magnus doesn’t even remember when he got down on his back, or when he lost his pants, or when Taako started… oh, god. It happened so fast at first, but when the little guy reaches down and starts stroking him, time fucking slows down. It’s torture getting touched like that, and he’s so out of it that all he can do is lay there and jerk his hips pitifully.

“Damn, buddy…” Taako’s voice is hushed and breathy, impressed. He works his thumb against the shaft steadily, and it’s embarrassing how easily Magnus gets worked up. A couple minutes of that and he’s not gonna last long! It’s been a while since he… took care of himself. Been hard to get in the mood, he guesses.

Groaning softly, Magnus lets his head loll back against the hard, flat bedroll, his eyes fluttering shut blissfully. This isn’t so bad. He… right now, he feels like he can justify this to himself. Just when he starts getting painfully close to the edge, though, Taako lets go, and all Magnus can do in protest is groan. What’s with that?! This was Taako’s idea, is he changing his mind now, or—

Magnus hears a zipper. His head shoots up immediately, and he props himself up on his elbows as he struggles to get a clear look at Taako in the foggy lamp light. Apparently noticing he’s being watched, Taako smiles at him, placing a clumsy kiss to the inside of his knee. It makes his head swim, his brain going all slow and hazy so he doesn’t really get the implication when the little guy starts prying his knees apart. Then he kinda pieces it together and cringes. There’s no way! He’s a tank, he’s the bear, he’s… fuck, he’s supposed to be on _top!_ Which… brings to mind another problem, something he picked up when he got himself a shitty off-brand clone body.

There’s no way to sugar-coat it, there’s some girl junk down there. Magnus has no idea why: maybe Garfield had some really fucked up plans for this body, maybe he just doesn’t know how humans are put together. Magnus feels like he’s better off not thinking about it. It didn’t really bother him, except for the spotting last month. ...God, he really doesn’t want to think about that, either. He doesn’t want to think about anything, but it’s kinda hard to avoid when he’s stuck on his back with his entire ass and undercarriage in the air. This is all wrong, damn it! Magnus is the one with vehicle proficiency— if anyone’s looking at undercarriages, it should be him!

“Taako, uh, what’re…” Before he can finish that thought, he feels something firm, warm, and… surprisingly big press against his thigh. Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. He is not here for this, he was planning on a handjob or something— or at least being on top! A jolt of panic runs through him, but he’s too foggy to act on it. Magnus fumbles over his words until all he can get is a weak, confused, “Taako...”

That’s as much as he can say before he feels it slide in. He’s not… He doesn’t have anything to compare this to, he’s never done anything like this in his life. (Not _there_ , anyway, but that’s another thing he really doesn’t want to go into.) Magnus whines, trying to lean away or pull his knees together, but he’s pinned between Taako and the wall of the cabin at his back. The little guy notices, cupping the side of his head and rubbing at his hip lazily.

“Easy, Mags.” Taako’s breath hitches. “I’ve got you, okay?” He trails clumsy, sloppy kisses down the crook of Magnus’ neck, making his toes curl. It feels… somehow this is the thing that really makes him hate himself, but it feels _good_. The attention is amazing, and it’s so different from anything Magnus has had in years, it just kind of bowls him over. Enough that he almost gets used to the feeling of something literally inside him. It’s still uncomfortable, and it hurts if he so much as breathes the wrong way, but he keeps hesitating before he can shove Taako off him and bail for real.

Then Taako shifts a little, and suddenly, Magnus gets it. All at once. He rolls his hips and brushes up at just the right angle to send a wave of sensation through Magnus’ whole body. It’s so good he might cry. Instead, he just whines and throws his head back, his hand clutching helplessly at Taako’s stupid, tacky shirt. Taako keeps the focus on Magnus, pulling him into a needy kiss as he starts to rut slowly. Every stroke is dizzying, the kind of sensory overload that Magnus hasn’t gone through since the voidfish nearly exploded his brain. Is this what it’s like being, like… like a girl? Is it always this intense for them?

By the time he starts getting close to finishing, Magnus isn’t sure he can even talk anymore. He's totally out of it, clinging to Taako and keeping his legs splayed out shamelessly. All he can seem to do is lay there and shudder in pleasure, staring up at the ratty ceiling or Taako’s pretty hair whenever he remembers to open his eyes. Finally, Taako rocks against him particularly hard and it pushes him over the edge.

Magnus blacks out for a second or two. He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol, or his… weird, mutated body, or just how pent-up he let himself get. But whatever it is, it knocks him out like a bat to the head, and he doesn’t mind a bit. It’s an overwhelming high, one he didn’t realize he missed so badly.

Taako keeps going after that point, but Magnus is too far gone to care. He doesn’t complain when the little guy starts hammering at him like a fucking jack rabbit, or when he’s pretty sure he can _feel_ him finish. Breathing soft and rapid, Taako pauses, resting his head on Magnus’ chest for a second. He seems to catch himself, sitting up and combing a hand through his hair to flip it out of his face.

“I, uh…” Taako blinks dimly, and Magnus can tell he’s just as drunk and worn out as he is, if not more so. “I guess I owe you one, big guy.” Laughing stiffly, uncomfortably, Taako scoots away from him and gives him one last friendly pat on the side of the head. Kinda like he’s saying goodbye to a dog.

Magnus can’t really reply outside of a weird groaning noise. Everything feels spent and gross. All he can do is watch emptily as Taako staggers to his feet, getting dressed and mumbling under his breath. He stumbles over to his own sleeping bag, still rolled up in the corner, and uses it as a pillow to sleep face-down in the middle of the floor.

That seems like a good idea. Magnus can sort out this… All of this later. Right now, he just wants to crash. He’s too worn out to even remember why this was such a fuckup— hell, he’s so tired, he’s not sure he remembers lunch. The last thing he thinks to do is pull his pants up, and then he’s out cold, flat on his back and snoring like a bear.

**Author's Note:**

> More projects? A terrible idea, I'm all here for it. Special thanks to kittenmittens, not just for beta and editing, but for letting me base swathes of this text off of our private RPs.


End file.
